


This Crooked Tongue

by sparklyslug



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Clone Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, that helmet makes for some convenient handles, tony has some weird kinks okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklyslug/pseuds/sparklyslug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> “Most people,” Tony stuttered out. “Most people would just send flowers, save the attempted murder for after we,” he had to stop, had to force himself to breathe, “after we get to know each other a little better.” </i>
</p>
<p>Tony comes looking for Loki after a fight. The conversation doesn't go entirely how he expected it would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Crooked Tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vilefangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilefangirl/gifts).



> For the fantabulous vilefangirl, as a belated birthday present! Happy birthday droogie!

When Tony crashed through Loki’s picture window he was suited up, dripping wet, and mad as hell.

Loki didn’t look up from his seat at the wooden table, where he was absorbed in cleaning a truly impressive collection of daggers. It was an oddly domestic act for someone who was still in full armor, complete with his horned helmet.

“Missed the door,” he said. He set down the dagger he was working on and moved on to the next, a wickedly curved thing designed to cut coming out as well as going in. “By almost ten feet. Been at the bottle again, Stark?”

Tony pulled his helmet off and threw it aside. It hit the hardwood floor with a heavy thud. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Thinking?” Loki scratched at something on the blade with a fingernail. “Just now, about how I was going to get those marks out of my floor, actually. And how the rain coming in from that window will—”

“Hilarious,” Tony said. “Really funny, Loki. About as hilarious as how you almost _killed me_ today.”

“Killed you?” Loki said thoughtfully. “Today? No, I don’t think so.”

“Don’t give me that,” Tony paced forward a few steps. “I know it was you, I _felt_ it.”

Loki looked up at him and smiled, just a quick flash of one, before turning back to his blade. “You ‘felt’ it. Not very scientific of you. What’s your _hypothesis_ —” he said it the way Tony might say ‘hocus pocus’ “—for how I could ‘almost’ kill you without being seen?”

“Fuck how,” Tony said. “You’ve got your freaky-deaky disappearing act, I’ve seen it before. How doesn’t matter. I know you were there, and I know why.”

“Really?” Loki set aside the dagger and rested a chin on his hand. He had a way of holding his head that made it seem like the helmet weighed nothing at all. Tony knew for a fact that wasn’t true, and was doubly pissed because balancing and negotiating the weight of his own suit was a constant annoyance. “If you know the how and the why, why come here at all? Or did you just come to scuff up my floor and—”

“I _came_ ,” Tony said. “To tell you that I know what you’re doing, and that it’s not going to work.”

“And what am I doing, Stark?” Loki got to his feet, still holding the sickle-bladed knife in one hand. Tony glanced down at it before he could check the motion, and Loki smiled.

“You’re trying to get in my head,” Tony said. “You’re trying to throw me off. It’s not going to work, Loki. I know you better than that.”

“Well,” Loki said with a sigh, coming still closer. Tony held his ground, able this time to keep from looking down at the dagger again. “It’s disappointing to be so completely and totally figured out. You’ve got me, Stark. I’m very impressed.”

Tony scowled at him.

“But,” Loki said, finally stopping no more than a breath or so away from Tony. “If I’ve failed at, as you put it, ‘getting in your head,’ I have two questions.”

Tony stiffened.

“First,” Loki said, slowly raising the hand holding the dagger, skimming it along the Mark IX in a long line from Tony’s thigh up his stomach. “Why did you wear your armor to threaten me here?”

Tony didn’t say anything, his eyes fixed on Loki’s as he tried to ignore the low whine of metal scraping over the panels covering his chest.

“And second,” Loki took another step in, even closer. “Why did you think it would do anything to stop me?”

He pushed the blade down then, and it sank through the chest plate as though the metal was made of paper. Which it _was—_ Tony realized as Loki drew the blade down and the metal sheared away from it with a ripping noise _—_ just brightly-colored wrapping paper. It had changed so quickly that before Tony could even process the thought Loki had dropped the knife and had fastened a hand on either side of Tony’s neck. He pulled back, and tore the sleeves of Tony’s suit away. One caught Tony’s jaw and it stung. A paper cut, he’d given him a fucking _paper cut_.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony said.

“Mmmm,” Loki hummed in agreement, letting the pieces of Tony’s armor fall from his hands. They fluttered down to the floor and landed without sound. Tony brought a hand up to his jaw, but Loki grabbed it lightning-fast, catching Tony’s wrist tightly in his own hand before it could cover the cut.

“Nice party trick,” Tony said, low and rougher than he meant to, but then, Loki was very close.

Loki didn’t say anything. Instead, he leant forward and licked over the shallow cut. The metal of his helmet radiated cold against Tony’s temple and his tongue was blazingly hot as it slowly scraped over Tony’s jaw.

Tony shivered, partly from the pain, but didn’t have time to say anything before Loki took his chin in one hand and crashed his lips against Tony’s.

And this had happened before. But only once. Once Tony had been hurled 30 blocks downtown by an honest-to-god kraken when he was out of his suit, and Loki had appeared out of nowhere in a snap of livid green magic. He’d plucked Tony out of the air before he hit the ground. And Tony had laughed wildly, the noise bubbling out of him in some eruption of surprise and terror, and Loki had twisted a hand and they were in an unfamiliar apartment, and Tony had kissed him. He couldn’t say why exactly, afterwards. It had seemed like the thing to do at the time, possibly out of some hey-I’m-alive-but-I-shouldn’t be tide of shock and adrenaline.

Loki hadn’t seemed to mind.

But there had been no kraken this time. And yes, Tony had been angry, and he had _known_ that it was due to Loki that a sinkhole had opened up under him in the middle of Central Park, just like he’d known that Loki had been sending similar, if less dramatic, gifts ever since that first time. But being a little pissed didn’t explain why he was helping Loki pull his black undershirt over his head, why he was scrabbling against the leather and metal of Loki’s armor, why he let Loki tip his head back to suck bruises down his neck.

“Do you have any idea,” Tony gasped out, trying to angle his head out of the way of Loki’s horns, “how expensive that suit was?”

“Oh, shut up,” Loki growled against Tony’s throat.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Tony said. He couldn’t stop his hips from rocking up, trying to get closer, trying to get _something_. But he kept talking, because while he was talking he could drown out the chorus of _this is a terrible idea what are you doing even for you this is dumb_ that was pounding through his skull. “Really fucking expensive.”

“You have a ridiculous number of your machines,” Loki bit down on Tony’s collar bone, his fingers pressing hard into Tony’s lower back. “I don’t see why you need so many.”

“Well, because assholes keep— ah— keep wrecking them.”

“You’re the common denominator there, Stark,” Loki was whispering in his ear now. “Are you sure you aren’t the problem?”

A moan was all that Tony could manage in response, and Loki laughed, low and throaty and _fuck_ he felt that all the way down to his toes. And then he was falling and there was a mattress under his back, and he hadn’t even had any warning that Loki was doing his stupid portal-whammy-thing. Before Tony could adjust Loki was over him and _on_ him, mouth locking over Tony’s and tongue sliding against his and Tony can’t think.

“What did you tell your friends?” Loki asked, sitting back and grinning down at Tony as he worked his hands into the waistband of Tony’s pants. “That their Iron Man had other business to take care of?” He wasn’t doing anything but wrap his hands over Tony’s hipbones, sliding his thumbs back and forth over his skin, but it was enough to get Tony panting and arching up into the touch and he couldn’t _think_. “Did they ask? Do they know that you’re here?”

“No,” Tony said, and though it still sounded breathless and wrecked it took a huge effort even to sound _that_ coherent. “I just told them— told them I’d be back later.”

“How good of you,” Loki grinned, eyes alive and bright above Tony. There’s a lamp on the bedside table, oddly normal-looking in the room of a god. Half of Loki’s face was bathed in the soft yellow glow, glimmers lighting on the fastenings of his armor and the slow curve of his helmet’s horns. The blue wash of the arc reactor caught more of Loki’s face, bringing out the sweep of his cheekbones and his lips where the lamp couldn’t reach. The rest of the room, the rest of Loki, was in darkness. “Do they expect you in at any time, Stark? Do you have a curfew to keep, to keep Papa Fury from worrying?”

“You know,” Tony tried to tell his hips to stop minutely twitching under Loki’s, and his hands from gripping the soft fleece-like blankets of Loki’s bed, but his body was pointedly ignoring him. “Shakespeare used to use horns to signify cuckold—”

Loki laughed, a sharp surprised sound, and gave Tony no other warning before taking a hand off his hip and palming him through his pants. Tony was hard, he was achingly hard, and just that pressure against his cock made him break off mid-sentence and gasp.

“What if they come to look for you?” Loki asked, like Tony hadn’t said anything. “What if they find you here, Stark? Like this?”

Tony wasn’t proud of the sound he made, as Loki’s fingers flexed around the base of his cock, just a gentle promise of a hell of a lot more. It was closer to a whine than he’d like to admit.

“No,” Loki said, so quietly that Tony almost couldn’t hear it. “No, I don’t think I’d care to share the sight of you like this.”

His hand slid slowly up Tony’s length, lingering just at the head and giving it another quick squeeze. Tony was sure he was wet already; he could already feel the little flashes of intensity in his gut, the trembling in his legs, and fuck, Loki wasn’t even out of his _armor_ yet.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Tony gritted out. He considered mentally listing his groceries as a way to calm himself down at least a little. And then he considered for a moment the disadvantage of being so goddamned rich that you didn’t need to buy groceries, ever.

“That again,” Loki chuckled. The hand that had been lingering  on Tony’s hip tightened into a grip that would probably bruise later, holding him down on the bed. “I know, you think I want to get inside your _head_ ,” and that was accompanied by a twist of the wrist that had Tony seeing stars.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” he panted, and shook his head, like he could somehow clear it under these crazy, fucked-up circumstances. “No, now you’re showing off. Teleporting down— down the hall, keeping all your god shit on— you’re just trying to—” and he couldn’t say anything else, because Loki had finally let go of his hip, and Tony’s pants were just gone. Tony shivered, partly because of yeah, a lot of cool air on a lot more of him, but also because Loki’s eyes were sparkling in the low light, and they looked _hungry_.

“For someone who traffics with gods and monsters,” Loki said, his voice low and rough, “You impress too easily.” He wasn’t touching Tony anymore, just straddling his thighs and looking down at him. Tony’s erection stood up against his stomach, pre-come already leaking from the head. “Some bright flashes and popping from place to place, you think that’s what I would do if I wanted to ‘show off’?”

“Stark,” he leaned over Tony, his hands sliding up Tony’s sides. “Give me some credit for a better imagination than _that._ ”

And Tony must have lost his mind, because he couldn’t stop himself from grinning at Loki and saying, “Prove it.”

Loki smiled. And rocked back on his heels, and took Tony’s cock in his mouth.

Tony should have been expecting it, but it took him by surprise. Loki’s lips closed over his head, tongue working at the slit, and Tony couldn’t stop the moan, or the reverent “jesus _fuck_ ,” that came out more like a prayer. The horns of Loki’s helmet curved almost up to his chest and rested gently on his stomach. As Loki’s lips pushed slowly down, taking more of Tony’s cock into his mouth, Tony wrapped his hands around the cool metal just for something to hold onto, something to try to anchor himself with.

Loki hummed around his cock, one hand wrapped firmly around the base, and Tony practically _sobbed_. Loki’s other hand moved steadily up and down Tony’s thigh, sometimes curving in torturously close to his balls but never touching them.

“Most people,” Tony stuttered out, fingers tight around the horns. “Most people would just send flowers, save the attempted murder for after we,” he had to stop, had to force himself to breathe, “after we get to know each other a little better.”

Loki pulled off slowly, torturously slow, but kept his hand around Tony’s now-slick cock. Tony let go of the helmet as he went, though he thought for a second his fingers had seized up around it.

“You’ve got me all figured out, though,” Loki purred, and god his lips were red and wet, and he’d been _sucking Tony’s cock_ , and his voice sounded like it too, _fuck_.

“Fine, fine,” Tony sighed. He couldn’t seem to look away from Loki’s hand around his cock. “You’re a total mystery, very inscrutable, I was so wrong.”

“Oh no,” Loki tipped his head forward and took off the helmet one-handed, the other hand slowly working Tony’s cock. “You were right.”

“Umm,” Tony said.

“I am showing off,” Loki set the helmet down on the bed, and turned back to look at Tony. “Or, well. I haven’t been, really. Not yet.”

“Not yet? What are you going—” and someone was _grabbing him_ , there were hands under his shoulders and he was being pulled up into someone’s lap. Tony twisted, but there were hands already on his wrists and it— it was Loki behind him, holding Tony against his chest and grinning like the fucking Cheshire Cat. Tony looked back down and Loki was _there too_.

“I told you,” the Loki in front of him said. “You should give me credit for a little more imagination.”

He bent down and took Tony’s cock into his mouth again, just as the Loki at Tony’s back bent his mouth to Tony’s neck and _bit_. Tony arched up, wrists straining against the grip Loki—a Loki, Loki the second? _He’s losing his fucking mind—_ had around them. Loki’s tongue worked up and down the underside of his cock, his hand still squeezing a regular rhythm that slowly built as Loki— both were Loki, it was all Loki— let go of his wrists and wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist instead. The other Loki, the one Tony could see, moved the hand not around Tony’s cock down, out of view. Tony’s hands went into Loki’s hair behind him, maybe just to check that this was _real_ , and Loki hummed his approval around Tony’s cock.

“You say you know me,” Loki whispered against Tony’s neck. A slick finger pressed against his ass, and Loki slowly worked it in. “Well, Tony Stark. I know you.”

Tony bucked up, or would have, but Loki’s arms were strong around his waist and just held him tighter. He had barely adjusted to the feeling of one finger when Loki slid a second in.

“I know what brought you here,” Loki said. “I know what it is you want.”

“What I—” Tony could barely think, there were two fingers in his ass and Loki had started to _suck_ at him, and he was making the most amazing noises, the hungriest—

“You wrap yourself in junkyard scraps and launch yourself into space,” two fingers became three, and god, god, Tony was going to explode. His hands were so tight in Loki’s hair he was sure it had to be painful, but Loki just bent his head and pressed a kiss against Tony’s neck.

“You fly high, you fly fast, but never high or fast _enough_ , isn’t that right?” And the two Lokis moved together in one fluid seamless motion: one Loki’s arms moved from around his wait to under his arms and lifted him up, just enough to bring him back down again on Loki’s cock a split second after the other Loki withdrew his fingers. The whole time the other Loki’s mouth never stopped working and sucking on Tony.

And they move together after too, the rhythm of one Loki thrusting into him perfectly countered by the motion of the Loki sucking on his cock. The gold and blue light from the lamp and the arc reactor glided over his sleek black hair, so tempting that Tony had to sink a hand into it. And Loki was moving in him, shallow thrusts that still were just more than Tony could fucking handle.

“Isn’t it right,” Loki’s voice dropped in pitch, intimate and almost loving against Loki’s ear. “That the thrill, the fear, the _danger_ , is what you really came here for?”

“I—” Tony said, about to protest, but he was close, so close, and—

And Loki’s hand was on the arc reactor. His hand was on the arc reactor, and Tony stared down at it as that hand _twisted—_

And Tony was coming, crying out with a rough, jagged half-moan, and Loki held him tight against his chest as he shook and Loki swallowed him down eagerly, and his hand was on the arc reactor and Tony had never come so hard in his life.

Before he had time to really come down from it, Loki rolled them over and wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, holding him up. He thrust into him, hard, deep, and Tony could really only knot his hands in the blankets and try to stay up.

“Come on,” Tony said, and put out a hand to brace himself against the headboard. God, his voice sounded just— “Come on, Loki.”

And maybe it was Tony pushing back against him, or maybe it was Tony’s voice. But either way Loki gasped, and the rhythm of his thrusts turned more uneven, more muddled. His fingernails dug into Tony’s sides and he pressed his forehead against Tony’s back.

“ _Stark_ ,” he snarled, and he was coming, opening his mouth against Tony’s skin and fanning hot breath across his spine. He didn’t make any noise, just shook and then went still.

The arms holding Tony up relaxed, and he sank down onto the bed. When Loki sighed and pushed at Tony’s hip to turn him onto his back, there was only one Loki again. Naked, smiling, and more or less collapsing half on top of Tony.

Lazily, almost like an afterthought, Loki brought a hand up to the arc reactor. Tony watched, too dazed still to do anything more than that, the dull thud of fear more or less indistinguishable from the aftershocks still rocking through him. But all Loki did was fit his fingers around the arc reactor and twist it back into place.

Loki looked up at him, then gently bit him on the shoulder.

“Sleep, Stark.”

To Tony’s surprise, he did.

**Author's Note:**

> many many thanks to wrecked-anon for awesome betaing!


End file.
